


Shake, Rattle & Roll

by flinchflower



Series: The 50kinkyways [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Vibrator, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:33:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 16: Vibrators. Sam finds the perfect practical joke to play on Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shake, Rattle & Roll

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the characters originally so I could use them as a writing exercise, to see how close I could get the characterization. Then I was corrupted by porn. And kink. Here’s a side of kink. This is simply for practice, not publication or profit. I’m in the hole by about 30 grand, if you’d like to seize my debt as punishment. AU in that I refuse to admit the death of John Winchester.

Sam wandered back and forth on the street, waiting for. He was tired, idly reading shop signs. One with a protection veve drawn above the door caught his eye, as did the ‘Going out of business’ sign. It couldn’t hurt to find a sale at a botanica, so after noting the open sign was still lit, he opened the door. He stared in shock, and was about to turn around and make his escape when a low chuckle trapped him.

“Boy, you look like a scared rabbit. They don’t bite. Come on in, now. I may not have the time to keep this shop going, but I’ve never let someone walk out without saying hello.” The woman’s voice was warm, and his manners wouldn’t let him back out. He stepped around to the counter, couldn’t keep the surprise from his face. The proprietor was a sweet faced grandmotherly woman. He gave her a tentative smile. He noted the cross she wore, and the fact that the windows were salted.

“You have a lover, boy?”

“Yeah,” he said shyly.

“He treat you right?”

Sam blinked. “Likes to tease,” he said with a bigger grin. Probably a psychic.

“Oho,” she said. “Practical jokes?”

“Always.”

She eyed him. “Maybe you should get back at him, then. Look, everything left in here? Half off. You take more than one or two items, and I’ll make it seventy-five. There’s a beach house in Florida waiting on me once I close the shop down.”

Sam didn’t hesitate. He started asking questions. She laughed a rich, deep laugh, and explained the differences between battery powered, and electrical, the different shapes, the bullets, the vibrating rings, the different speeds. Sam liked the remote control vibrators best. Finally a selection was spread out on the counter in front of them.

“You’re a smart boy, I’ll say that. That is one adventure lying there on the counter. I’m surprised you’ve not tried anything like that before.”

“Toys threaten his masculinity, I think.”

He loved the woman’s rolling laugh. They chatted for a while, and he slipped her a couple extra twenties when he paid her.

“I like you, boy. I can see you’ve got your own problems, but you give me hope. Just be safe in your work.”

“How…”

“Second sight, son – I should think you’d know. Here, you take this number for me, if you need any more advice.”

“Thanks, Ellie.”

“Now get moving, if you want to set those up before that boy of yours drags himself out of the bar. And Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“No shame, love between brothers. It’s too soon, but your Dad will understand. Oh, and you want a botanica, you go to the one over on Second Street, tell them I sent you. Proprietors will understand.” She shut the door firmly behind him. He blinked in the starlight, then hurried down to the motel. It didn’t take much thought. Two vibrators went in the Impala; one in the glove box, one of the bullets with a cord sneakily wrapped around her gearshift, where it would turn on when the car started. A pocket rocket with the ammunition, another one with the knives. A motion sensitive one went into Dean’s shaving kit. He was feeling a bit at a loss, and then he spotted their laundry bags. Yes.

He sorted through the laundry bag and both their duffels, and headed for the washer and dryer in the open room next to theirs. An hour later he’d tucked the rest of them into various pockets of Dean’s clothing, and had folded a packet of lube and a condom into each piece of Dean’s clothing. He snickered to himself, put the clean clothing away. The change of clothes he left on the bed for Dean were trap free – he’d be cranky by this point, unless he’d scored at the pool hall. Sam’s timing was perfect, because it was only about twenty minutes after he’d settled on the bed that the door opened.

“Met someone in the pool hall, ran a good hustle,” Dean said breezily, then spotted the clean clothes. “You did laundry?”

“Bored,” Sam replied. A long hustle meant Dean was relatively sober, and would be in a good mood tomorrow. “You were gone for hours. Anyone we know?”

“Yep. Be by later.”

Sam’s interest was piqued, but he chose to ignore it. Dean vanished into the shower, and Sam slipped an anatomically correct vibe into Dean’s jacket. Then the doorknob turned. Sam leveled a gun at the opening door. His father chuckled.

“Good boy, Sam.”

“Dad,” he said incredulously.

“Job in Denver was a hoax, and knew you boys were close.”

“No wonder Dean’s in a good mood.”

John chuckled. “Cleaned up good in the hall – you mind if your old man shares the room, though? I need to make a supply run, Dean said you boys do too.”

“Nah,” he said. “Got a line on a botanica over on second street. I’ll go with. How long are you staying?”

John sat down on the bed with a thankful sigh, pulling his jacket off. “Got a cabin, want to hole up there with you boys, for a couple weeks, look over a bunch of research. Dean’s shoulder’s a mess, even if he won’t admit it, and he said your wrist is still pretty weak-” A yelp from the bathroom interrupted John, and he sat up abruptly.

“DAMMIT, SAM!” Dean burst out, minus his towel and froze, the vibrator still buzzing, in his hand. Silently, he backed into the bathroom, closing the door with a snap. Sam clapped a hand over his mouth, trying not to snicker out loud, and John turned slowly. Oh, this was grand.

“Sam, please, please, tell me I did not just walk into the middle of a prank war.”

“Uh, if you did, it just started, Dad.”

“God.” John dropped his head into his hands. “Haven’t you boys grown out of that- No, Dean, hands off your brother,” he warned, as Dean emerged, dressed this time, and went for Sam. “The pranks stop right there, or you’ll get the same as you did the last time.” They both winced. Sam at twelve and Dean at eighteen had both gotten impressive spankings over that one – Sam twice, because Dean had spanked him as soon as John had gone out for the evening as well.

“I can’t hear you, boys.”

“Yessir,” they both said. John wasn’t sure that was honesty he was hearing or not, but…

“Dean, go next door bring some supper back, cool off while you’re at it.”

“Yessir.” Dean grabbed his jacket, rummaging for the room key. His face froze, and he pulled out the giant pink vibrator. Sam imagined a halo hanging over his own head, kept a straight face. Dean left without a word.

“Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“Just how extensive…”

“Extremely. Dude, he deserves it. He brought some chick back here while I was sleeping.” He’d been slightly jealous, but he also knew how Dean got when he was drunk. “You gonna make me fish the rest of ‘em out?”

“Nah. I could use a laugh – and that boy should know better than to be bringing locals home with him. Probly deserves it.”

A disbelieving grin spread over Sam’s face and John chuckled.

Later that night, after John started to snore, Dean pressed Sam into the mattress.

“You are a dead man. And remember, Sammy, I have time to plan.”


End file.
